Cinder Block
by ghoulgraverobber
Summary: Life for you has been less then kind. Take a number, stand in line. We've all been sorry, we've all been hurt. But how we survive, is what makes us who we are. Drabble. L!thoughts before death.


just a small rambling really. just L before he died (as depicted in the episodes). sorry for any spelling and or grammar errors, i tried my best.

this is more or less to get rid of writers block - and i just needed to get myself going again.

disclaimer; **i do not own deathnote or any of the mentioned characters here-in. i also do not own the lyrics that are used at one point in this story.**

enjoy.

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**Before God we are all equally wise - and equally foolish.**

_-Albert Einstein_

L never considered that he was capable of emotion. He never pondered the thought that he could feel something, other than utter amusement, or justification, or enjoyment. He never thought he could hate or love. He never thought he could **cry**.

But the rain on his skin felt so good, and the tears in his eyes fell freely, wanting to escape and mingle with their brethren the raindrop. The breeze danced through the olive trees playing against his skin alluringly, tempting him to just blow away with the current. Every single thing that brush against his skin, wetness, cold, warmth, felt so welcoming.

How he longed to just be held in these last few moments, how he longed to feel just that last bit of contact before everything ended.

'_All smiles and sunshine,'_ He stared at the grey sky, at the piling clouds, let the raindrops sting his eyes. He focused on the frothy sunlight beyond the clouds. '_A perfect world on a perfect day.'_ He mused, he pondered. Could this "perfect world" that Kira, no, that **Light** was struggling to obtain, could it really happen?

His sense told him that it wouldn't, couldn't exist. But his heart told him he wished it would. He wished that Light got the success he wanted, got his final last wish. He wished him well.

What more could he do? Be angry? Bitter?

That wasn't like him. He could never hate someone for the sheer reason that they would probably beat him. No, not probably, for the sheer fact that they would beat him.

He was to accept his death, his end, his whatever, with pride. But most certainly not dignity, because your to live with that. Death is messy, disgusting and embarrassing. There is nothing dignifying about it.

So, when Light came to the rooftop and asked L what he was doing, why he was out there he smiled and asked about the bells.

Because he heard them. He heard them ringing so loudly in his ears. Do you know why?

They say before you die, your see your whole life flash before your eyes.

Those bells where his life. When he was a little orphan, clutching a weathered pale hand, standing in front of his new home, he had heard them. That moment, the very second when they had rung had been forever imprinted into his mind. The snowflakes had been delicately falling from the sky, slowly piling up on the sidewalks, in his puff of hair. His ghostly white cheeks slightly flushed and chapped, his eyes watering from the cold. The bells had made the ice on his heart slowly melt.

Those bells had meant so much to him.

And now as he was heading inside, into the warmth, out of the cold damp city air he heard them. Heard their chime, the sweet medley of noises they made. Heard their tune ring through the air. And he felt that little part of him warm.

Those bells made death that fraction of a bit more comfortable.

So when he fell from the chair, his back not quite hitting the ground, it didn't hurt. It never did. He stared into Light's – no Kira's, eyes he felt his eyes flutter. And he glimpsed his enemy before he slept forever. He watched a face that **should** have been innocent contort into something so evil, so absolutely scary.

But he wasn't afraid. Why should he be? Why should he be frightened of something that was as scared as the next person. Light was not a tyrant, he was not a God, he was not "The Creator of The New World." He was a scared, pathetic college student who was so terrified of being bored for the rest of his life he did something that would make him wish he would have died in the womb.

Light was not brave -bravery does not spawn from evil. Bravery comes from being able to admit that you too are scared at times. And Light would never let that confession pass his lips.

But, L was thankful to the psycho maniac killer for one thing.

As his body turned cold, he felt warmth, Light's hands on the small of his back. And he was happy for that last bit of contact.

And even as he died, as he peacefully shut his eyes -

he could still hear the bells.

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reveiw if you wish.

:D


End file.
